


Young Gods

by NevermindNostalgia



Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Crying During Sex, Dubious Consent, Eobarry, M/M, Oral, POV Third Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Present Tense, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rough Sex, Time Travel, Unresolved Emotional Tension, okay a tiny bit of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 12:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8978881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NevermindNostalgia/pseuds/NevermindNostalgia
Summary: "One should never meet his idol, lest his memory become tainted forever," Eobard jests, quirking a half-smile. "I learned that lesson the hard way. The question is, did you?”
 Barry travels back in time and goads Eobard into banging him in the Cortex.  No, it’s really that simple.





	

**Author's Note:**

> kk, so I was roleplaying with this chick on Omegle and she had to leave juuuuust as we were getting to the good stuff. i didn't offer contact info bc i'm kinda a commitaphobe. i didn't wanna start something i couldn't finish, y'know? i finished anyway bc I am a major shitlord. if you find this carls, ily and I rlly hope you don't mind me sharing. 
> 
> i started off as Eo. edited for readability and word flow. no beta. enjoy, pals.

Barry texts him at two in the morning asking to talk to him. It's not unheard of for the young speedster to blindly reach out for his companionship, but this time is different. This time, he claims to have discovered a method of going much faster. He's also offering to bring food, which Eobard is seldom known to turn down. 

He arrives less than two minutes after the parting text is sent, skittering by so quick papers fly off of the tabletop Eobard is working at. There's something negative in the air, something sharp and eerie in the speedforce. Barry gives Eobard a wry grin, as if aware of the sparks he leaves behind, and drops the bags of food on his desk. 

He did not merely have a theory on picking up his speed, that much is clear. It's been enacted. Eobard smiles thinly, already on guard. He's not sure what's going on, but there's no way that Barry – his Barry - could reach the speeds the man in front of him has already plundered without Eobard's coaching. He wonders what’s in store for him. "Instant wish fulfillment," Eobard drawls, reaching for a bag, "is quite the superpower."

Barry grins. “Yep,” he agrees. He shuffles Eobard’s paperwork to the side of the counter and pulls himself on top. “I've been thinking,” he starts, pulling out a burger. “I was doubting myself pretty hard, right? I was scared of the Reverse Flash. That's what's been holding me back so much.”

Eobard ponders the remnants of the man he left behind so many years ago feeling even an inkling of fear toward him. It doesn't fit. "Fear is a powerful motivator," he agrees. He sinks his teeth into the cheeseburger and considers what it would be like to bite into Barry's delicate, graceful neck instead. "You speak in past tense. How did you overcome your doubts?”

“I was thinking about it and I realized something,” Barry says, a foreign look in his eye as he spies Eobard over the crunch of his burger. “We know that a future me was there that night, but surely he’d only know to come back if the Reverse Flash was from the future too. It didn’t make any sense. Why would he go after me as a child?” His gaze is challenging, obstinate, like he truly understands the depths of what he’s saying. “Unless I was faster than him.” 

This Barry's deductive reasoning is full of holes, but it's not taking on water. He's bypassed many elements of improbability and is marching directly into the flames with wings made of paper. "As fascinating a tale as the future might hold, time is relative." He looks into Barry's eyes, bright and blue as they are, and doesn't see a monster quite yet. "Why are you so confident in one of many possibilities? We don't have anything concrete. The Reverse Flash might've found your mother particularly enthralling for all we know.”

Barry scoffs. “That’s bullshit and you know it, Dr. Wells. My mom was amazing, but there is no way it’s a coincidence that years later I got the exact same powers as he had,” he says. He's different from the Barry of this time, _wrong wrong wrong_. Eobard wonders how much farther in the future this novice came from if he’s still here, with Wells, discussing the very plight that led them down his path. “Someone saved me that day. I was the target. I had to be. I want to know why you’re questioning that.” 

He has faint memories of the Nora Allen of the original timeline. He never cared much for anyone outside of the Flash, but he very much relishes in the memory of ripping through her heart and then some. Eobard looks at her son and chews idly. "All I'm saying is that there are many elements we don't have access to yet," Eobard says. He's amused, hiding it under a veil of a scientist's unbounding curiousity. "After all, if your future self was so fast, why couldn't he save your mother?"

Barry stills, grip visibly tightening on the cheap burger. “Wasn’t it you who told me how dangerous it is to change the future?” he shoots back, bristling. “I mean, when I went back in time and brought in Mardon, you were furious.” He swallows thickly. “Maybe my mother’s death is a fixed point in time. It can’t be changed without risking so much more.” 

Definitely not too far in the future. This man in front of him seems to not know of a time when he grew up with two parents and a dog. 

Eobard wonders what Barry is trying to achieve. Surely if he knew who Eobard is, he wouldn't be attempting to provoke him with these asinine prods. "So you're saying you think your mother was fated to die," Eobard draws out, pensive. He takes a sip of soda. "Morphing the future could create potentially cataclysmic consequences, but you've never been good at following directions. I wouldn't expect the future Flash to be either."

Barry shrugs. “Maybe I grew up.” He looks at Eobard for a long moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He shakes his head, a smile touching his lips. “You know, I used to have the biggest crush on you as a kid,” he confesses, running his fingers through his hair. “I was obsessed. Especially after… I thought you were amazing. You helped me forget everything. I was so excited when I actually met you that it blew everything else out of the water.” 

Of course Eobard knew of his peculiar fixation with Harrison Wells. He observed Barry Allen through a fixed lens for the most part of his life. He wonders why he's choosing to divulge it now. "One should never meet his idol, lest his memory become tainted forever," Eobard jests, quirking a half-smile. "I learned that lesson the hard way. The question is, did you?”

Barry meets his gaze for a split second before his gaze diverts. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah, I did. I learned that way, and I hated myself a long time for how I felt.” He pauses, peeking at Eobard through dark lashes. “I won’t lie. I don't think I'll ever really get over it." 

Eobard wonders if this pale reflection of Barry Allen is referring to Harrison Wells or Eobard Thawne. "Infatuations typically fade in time," he says, eyes drawn to the man in front of him. Barry, not the man who'd broken every bone in his body and had him begging for more. Time might heal all wounds, but it certainly isn't without its scars. "Perhaps we've earned a slip back into old habits."

Barry furrows his brows, eyes wide and guileless. “What do you mean by that?” he asks curiously, cocking his head and putting down his food. “Old habits?" 

He’s perched on the desk in front of him, all long limbs and confused Bambi eyes. He's nothing like the Flash. His Flash. Eobard hasn't been able to put the memories to rest. This Barry might not be his Barry, but he's similar enough for now. He'll find the original Barry Allen in due time. 

Eobard reaches up to curl a hand under Barry's jaw. It's soft and warm, a faint pinprick of stubble. "I think you'll find lessons don't always stick in the land of gods and monsters.”

Barry’s eyes widen at the touch and he almost seems to want to shrink away. He swallows hard like it was the last thing he'd expected. “Oh,” he exhales, finally. His fingers caress Eobard’s wrist slowly, tentatively. “You want me.” 

Barry's reaction is almost laughable, but he doesn't push Eobard away. That's enough for him. "Yes," Eobard confirms indulgently, running his hand down Barry's jaw, his neck, to the collar of the suit he’d come to despise. He leaves behind a wake of goosebumps. 

Barry looks like he wants to run, drag him down to the pipeline, lock him away forever with the rest of his nightmares, but he just closes his eyes and leans into the touch. “Eobard,” he whispers quietly – hushed, as though fearing they could be overheard. His voice is soft and broken as he says, “How can I trust that you aren’t going to just kill me?” 

It's nice, this Barry pretending to be upfront with him. He stands up out of his wheelchair and drinks in the sight of Barry Allen, eyes shut and waiting before him. "If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it the second you rushed in," Eobard tells him. He grasps Barry's jaw roughly between his hands and tilts up, forcing him to look. Eobard's smile is more of a display of teeth than anything. “You wanted to get caught. There's nothing as fun as the first relapse.”

Barry lets out a soft whimper. “You’re not gonna be gentle,” he states, stained glass blue eyes blown wide. He licks his lips, and words tumble out like he’s been waiting on saying them his entire life. “How long have you wanted this? I know you idolized me. I know you wanted to be me. Did you want me then? Have you always wanted it? Even when future me was thwarting your plans again and again?”

At the mention of the Flash, Eobard breaks into a snarl, yanking them close and silencing him by pressing their mouths together, a sickly sweet reminder of lives’ past. Barry Allen is, and will forever be, his worst mistake and his greatest creation. He wonders what parts of their story this Barry knows, wants to spoil them and eat him alive in the process. If he is seeking counsel, that could only mean that Eobard’s tale has reached its completion, and his future was all for naught. If it's a pleasure trip, he's equally doomed. 

Barry breaks apart, gasping for air. 

“I’ll tell you what,” Eobard murmurs, nuzzling against his cheek. His hands are curled around the base of Barry’s neck, just so he has no choice to break away. “If you be good, I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything.” 

Barry whines. He leans into his touch as Eobard licks a trail up the column of his throat. “I’ll be good,” Barry promises intently. He pulls in Eobard close in the space between his parted legs. “God, I’ll be good for you, Eobard." 

Eobard barks a ghost of a laugh. “The first time I heard of the Flash was in history class,” he starts. He’s licking the shell of Barry’s ear languidly, voice low and raspy. The skin under his tongue quivers. “October eighteenth, early twenty second century. It was raining.” 

Barry corners Eobard’s mouth and pastes his onto it. He tastes like ozone and ketchup. 

Eobard pushes him down onto the desk, papers flying. He climbs on top and relishes in his heat. “I was fourteen. It was a course on the Age of Heroes. I was assigned a little known footnote at the bottom of the page and given a week to know the Flash better than I knew myself.”

Barry’s fumbling with the front of his suit. Eobard unzips it easily and mouths at the exposed skin. He’s watching Eobard carefully as he presses a trail of kisses along his collarbone. There’s a spattering of freckles, and he’s running hot. 

“It was fascinating,” Eobard continues, taking his time. He sucks at one of Barry’s nipples, peaking from the cold. Barry whines when Eobard bites down, not hard enough to bring blood, but enough to hurt. “The possibilities were endless. Unlimited speed trapped in a human body. It seemed unrealistic. I didn't believe it, at first. I thought the old heroes were as much as a fable as Jesus Christ.”

Barry keens as Eobard moves. He's pressing himself hard against Barry’s heat, slowly grinding his hips down upon Barry’s crotch. His stomach burns heavy and Barry feels like static and the spring time. 

“I was enthralled,” Eobard admits, kissing the center of Barry’s chest. He slips the top part of the suit off with little assistance from the man underneath him. “There was little known about the man in red, but I was bound to find out everything history had to offer.”

Barry’s eyes are drawn low and hazy as Eobard scrapes his teeth along the flesh, but he remains alert and attentive to Eobard’s every word. The overhead LED light flickers. 

“I was sixteen the first time I pleasured myself to you.” 

Barry chokes and Eobard smiles widely. He keeps his eyes locked with Barry as he slides down, tongue tracing over the outline of his abdominal muscles. 

“Acting upon bodily urges is heavily frowned upon in my time,” Eobard tells him. He has his legs folded on either side of Barry’s thighs and he's going lower, lower. "I chewed my lips bloody to keep from screaming." 

Barry’s legs are straining and he looks in pain when Eobard removes his mouth. The expression changes when he realizes it's only to remove the rest of his garments. 

“I worked out an experimental equation to replicate your speed when I was nineteen.” Eobard, fully clothed, slides off the desk top. He pulls Barry closer to the edge and kisses him deeply. “Four people died before I perfected it."

Barry moans. His cock’s straining hard against Eobard’s stomach and the balls of his feet are digging into his thighs. 

“I met you two years later,” Eobard tells him. He runs his fingertips down the notches of Barry’s spine. “You were larger than life. Inspiring. Beautiful.” Eobard laces his fingers between Barry’s and squeezes hard, looking into his eyes. “ _Godly_.”

He slides down to his knees, looking up at Barry thoughtfully. His cheeks are flushing a vibrant red, and he's looking down at Eobard like he doesn't know where all the pieces go. Eobard smiles, sharp and wide and fluid. “I suppose if there was any way for me to get over my infatuation, getting fucked in your bed while your wife was making dinner in the next room certainly wasn't it.”

He's got his lips wrapped around Barry’s cock with Barry’s hands grasping his hair like it’s the only thing keeping him in place. It's been such a long time since he's had this, and he never once had it without the threat of it being taken away at a moment’s notice. Eobard is the one in control here. It's his name Barry moans, his touch that's clung to. 

He sucks in deep as Barry cries out. “I did it,” Barry breathes. His eyes are watering, and he looks like he wants to come, but Eobard’s hand is wrapped hard around the base of his cock. “I did it. It's my fault. I started it.”

Eobard releases Barry with a plop. He kisses the head of his cock and slowly releases his hold on the base. Barry lets out a long, needy whine. 

“I suppose if you want to view it that way,” Eobard says. He tugs Barry close to the edge and kisses the insides of this thighs. 

Barry’s panting now as Eobard stretches back to his feet. He pulls Eobard in hard and it occurs to him that Barry’s eyes are wet with unshed tears. “I'm nobody’s hero. Not anymore.” 

Eobard laughs. “You're as unconvincing now as ever,” he says. He prods Barry’s lips and is unsurprised at how quickly they open up. Barry sucks his fingers slow and eager, hollowing out his cheeks like he’d rather be latched around a cock. A trail of saliva drips from Barry’s mouth when he removes them. He pushes Barry down with his other hand. “We made a good team for a while.”

Barry whines loudly as Eobard circles around his hole. He spreads his legs, cheeks flushed scarlet and avoiding eye contact. Eobard slips his finger inside easy. Too easy. 

His eyes narrow. “You prepared yourself already.” 

Barry has the decency to look sheepish. He rocks his hips slightly forward as if to urge him on. The tears have receded. “I was hopeful.”

“You hoped you'd get fucked by the man who killed your mother,” Eobard reiterates. He moves his hand. “That's not what a good boy would do, is it?” 

Barry avoids Eobard’s gaze. His cock twitches. “No, I guess not.”

Eobard grabs his hips and yanks. Barry yelps but wraps his legs around his waist. He still has his back mostly propped up by the tabletop. 

Eobard unzips his fly. “We talked about this,” he says. He strokes himself to hardness and doesn't apply any other lubricant than the slick wetness of Barry's spit. “I'd give you the story if you're good. You're not being a very good boy.”

Barry howls when Eobard enters him. That's better. 

“The Flash never held back.” Barry’s gripping so tight onto him that his knuckles are turning white. There are tears streaming down his face, this time so heavy Eobard has to lick them away. Barry shivers. “He was a hurricane,” Eobard whispers in his ear. His thrusts are tempering and deep. Barry's biting his lip so hard that there’s a line of blood leaking into his mouth. “When he fucked me I could hardly breathe.”

Eobard's starting to pick up pace now. He spreads Barry’s legs at the knees harshly to see himself slipping into Barry’s tight ring of muscle better. He can feel Barry’s ass tightening around him at the attention. Barry can’t look at him. He's shaking. 

He can feel the steady undercurrent of the speed force tearing through his veins, begging to be let out. 

“You were my god,” Eobard says, and he's astounded by how true it feels out loud. “I would have worshipped at your altar every day. We could've been unstoppable. We could have done anything.”

Barry’s eyes are on him now, brilliant blue and burning and Eobard slams into him so hard Barry has to shove his own hand in his mouth to muffle his scream. 

“It didn't work.” 

Barry’s cock slaps heavily on his stomach. 

“It wasn't enough.” 

His cheeks are damp. 

“I was never _enough_.”

He can feel it coming on before it happens. Barry’s insides are tightening and static electricity sparks yellow across his skin and he cries out. Barry wraps his arms around Eobard’s neck and buries his face in his shoulder as Eobard feels something wet smear across the front of his sweatshirt. 

Eobard lifts him up off the counter. He's still buried balls deep in Barry and Barry whines as Eobard thrusts harder and harder, letting gravity do most of the work. 

“He gave up on me a decade later,” Eobard murmurs. He’s getting close. “I tried to fight it but he never listened. You never listened.” 

Barry looks tired and wrung out. His chest is shaking and his arms are blurring. Eobard wraps his hand around his already half-hard cock and strokes roughly. Barry arches into him and whimpers. 

“I didn’t give up. If I couldn't be by his side, I'd be against it. He crippled my connection to the speed force as punishment,” Eobard reveals quietly. Barry’s eyes are blown wide, and his mouth is agape. “I went back to give him something to lose so he'd know how it feels to have everything ripped away from him.” He sinks his teeth into Barry’s neck possessively. Blood seeps through the wound and Eobard’s hand around Barry’s cock starts to vibrate. He licks the stream of red away. “I could never live in a world without you in it, Barry.” 

Barry clenches down tight and in that moment Eobard comes hard and heavy, buried as deep inside of Barry as he can manage. Barry’s eyes are squeezed shut and there’s a static shock buzzing where their bodies touch. He can feel Barry’s mouth pressed desperately against the side of his neck, his fingers gripped tight enough to bruise around his shoulders and his come trickling between Eobard’s fingers. 

Eobard sits Barry back down on the countertop. He’s dazed and muzzy eyed, but attentive enough to watch slack-jawed as Eobard licks the come off of his fingers. He flushes, then reaches over to grasp Eobard’s wrist delicately and have a taste himself. 

He's beautiful like this, Eobard thinks wildly. Godly.

Barry looks Eobard in the eye, fully naked with a belly full of his come. “I think,” Barry starts quietly, carefully, “I think you're my god too."

Eobard kisses him so hard the air crackles.


End file.
